


Mending Old Wounds

by Reluctant_Hero (xXxTonixXx)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia/memory loss, Dissociative Amnesia, F/M, Hallucinations Caused by Stress, M/M, Slow Burn, mentions of child abuse, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXxTonixXx/pseuds/Reluctant_Hero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Season 2. After finding Sophia in the barn, Daryl begins to withdraw from the group. Rick wants nothing more but to help the archer. Instead, he finds out more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Losing Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first non-smut orientated fiction. Please bare with me as I explore my more angst-y side. -grins- I hope you enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disaster at the barn. Hershel wants them out. Daryl just wants to give up.

The sound of a single gunshot sounded through the farm followed by the thud of a small body hitting the dirt. All this time. All this time the person they were looking for was inside the barn. Little Sophia. Rick's stomach dropped when he saw the little girl stumble out of the dark, bite mark clear on he left shoulder. He had had everyone searching for her, Daryl had almost died looking, and all this time she was here, on the same land.

Rick knew things were not going to end well when Shane decided he wanted to take care of the 'walker situation' himself. His friends eyes were wild, anger and fear shining through them as he broke the chains on the large wooden doors, releasing a short wave of fresh eaters. No one hesitated to take them down, gunshot after gunshot echoing for miles as each walker was dealt with. Not one person hesitated. Until Sophia.

The group had watched in horror when she stepped out, everyone quiet except the anguished cries from her mother Carol. She had tried to get to Sophia, Daryl holding her back as she reached out for her daughter. No one wanted to step up and do the deed. Everyone was stock still, not wanting to move, not wanting to make what they were seeing a reality. That's when Rick decided he had to do it. He had to put this poor girl, that he had failed, out of her misery.

And here they stood now, gathered around over a dozen corpses, the only noise being the soft cries from Beth and the pained wails from Carol. Rick holstered his Python, hating the feel of it is his hand after what he had just had to do. He took his time to take in the faces of the people around him. 

Hershel look horrified as he was comforted by his eldest daughter Maggie. That was understandable. In his eyes, Rick and his group hand just murdered his family and friends. Shane had the audacity to look hurt, like he hadn't just cause all the pain everyone was feeling due to his little show of power. Rick was worried about that man, he was changing and not for the good. 

Even though Shane's actions had caused all this mess, Rick was relieved. The problem with the walkers 'had' been dealt with. Sure not in the way Hershel wanted, but at least there was no longer a threat. Rick was also relieved to know Sophia's outcome. It was the last thing Rick would have wanted for the girl, and for Carol for that matter, but at least he knows now that she is at peace. She is away from this dreadful and terrifying world.

Still, that thought did not stop Rick for feeling guilty for her. He moved his gaze over to Carol, who was still crying in Daryl's arms. Suddenly she pushes the archer away, scrambling to her feet. The stumbles off towards the RV, her sobs growing more distant. Daryl looks over to Rick, worry and horror on his own face before giving the older man a small nod, trailing off after the distraught woman.

Rick watches them both disappear from view, understanding Carol's need to be away from this terrible scene. Rick turns back, sighing heavily. This was not how this day was supposed to go. He meets Lori's eyes who is crouched down on the floor at the back, consoling their son. Rick can't read the expression that is on her face properly. Its a mix of horror and something else he just can't pinpoint. 

Hershel is helped to his feet by his two girls, the youngest still crying hard. They help him towards the farm house, the movement kicking everyone else out of their statue like state. They follow after the Greene family, Shane up front demanding to know he they knew Sophia had been there the whole time. Hershel denies to know anything about it but Shane refuses to believe him, getting right up into the farmers face. Maggie steps up, giving Shane a open handed slap, pushing him back down the steps. Hershel turns to Rick and gives the one sentence the former cop had been dreading since this incident started.

“Get off my land.” He murmurs out, his voice hoarse. The group stand in shock, the old mans words repeating over in their heads. Lori speaks up about moving the bodies, burying the ones they love and holding a ceremony. T-Dog, Glenn and Jimmy offer to help and soon everyone disperses from in front of the farmhouse leaving Rick and Maggie.

“Please, you can't kick us out of here. You don't know what it's like out there.” Rick pleads to the farmers daughter. Maggie sighs, moving to open the front door. She nods her head, gesturing Rick to follow her inside.

“Come. We'll talk to daddy. See if we can sort something out. We know this isn't on you Rick.” And with that, she disappears inside, leaving Rick to his thoughts on the porch. Maybe things were not all lost. Maybe he could come to some agreement with Hershel, beg him to let them all stay. Rick lets out a breathe he didn't know he was holding before grabbing the door handle and entering the house.

He could fix this.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daryl followed after Carol as she made her way back to the RV. He watched as she slammed the door open, stepping inside. He moved closer and could hear the woman's pained sobs from outside the vehicle. Daryl leaned against the side of the RV, sliding down the wall and sitting on the dusty floor. He didn't want to intrude on Carols mourning straight away, opting to having a cigarette ad waiting for her heart-breaking cries to die down.

Daryl pulled out his crumples cigarette carton, opening it to take out a slighting damaged stick. He brought it to his lips with shaky hands and quickly lighting it. He closed his eyes as he inhaled his first breathe of nicotine, releasing a steady stream of smoke with a sigh. He could not believe that Sophia was gone.

Daryl felt terrible. Day after day he had promised Carol that he would bring back her little girl alive. He gave her hope when everyone else, including herself didn't have any. Now Daryl felt guilty in doing so. He was so sure she was alive. He would have bet his life on it at the time. But in the end it was all for nothing. 

Daryl thought he was to blame for Carol's reaction right now. If he would have just kept his mouth shut, not given her false hope and rambling on about damn Cherokee roses, Carol might have been able to deal with the loss a bit better. Sure, even if they had known Sophia was dead, seeing her like that would have caused Carol pain but it would not have been the full loss she was feeling now. Her whole life had just been taken from her.

Daryl was thankful that Rick had managed to step forward and do the deed. No one else even raised their weapon when she had emerged from the dark. Hell, Daryl himself didn't think he would have been able to do it himself if he wasn't already busy holding back the crying mother. 

Daryl stubs out his cigarette almost violently before raising to his feet and dusting himself off. He lets out a deep breathe before entering the RV. He finds Carol curled up on the sofa, eyes red from crying but void of all emotion.

“Hey.” Daryl starts, unsure on what to say. He doesn't want to ask how she is, knowing full well she isn't doing so well. Carol looks up towards him, her emotionless eyes meeting his.

“Get out Daryl.” She whispers before settling her eyes back to staring at nothing. Daryl opens his mouth again, to try and talk to her but is cut off by Carols harsh voice.

“I said get out Dixon! I don't need anyone here!” She shouts at him, facing the archer again with a face full of hurt, anger and Daryl believes, betrayal. Daryl gives a shaky nod, high-tailing back out the RV. He knew she would blame him. Hell, he blamed himself. He headed back to camp, packing up all his belongings before moving off to the borders of the farm. He would stay clear of them from now on. He had screwed up enough. 

Daryl threw himself on the ground and for the first time since Atlanta, cried.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“My, my, my, what do we have here?” A voice sounded from above Daryl. The archer refused to look up. He knew that voice too well and he was not going to let this person see his weakness. Daryl watched ahead as a pair of familiar bikers boots came into view, stopping right in front of him

“You goin' all pussy boy on me Darylina?” The voice sneered as the man crouched into Daryls view. Daryl rubbed at his eyes as Merle's face appeared in front of his, his shit eating grin plastered on that smug face. His brother always liked to kick Daryl whilst he was down, so why wouldn't he appear to do it now? One of Merle's hands reached out, smacking Daryl lightly on the face.

“Now, now little brother, none of those prissy tears. You tell ole Merle what's got yer panties in a twist.” He laughed, Daryl cringing at the loudness of his voice, praying to god the group didn't hear the other man. That is all Daryl would need now, everyone coming down on him for his brother being here.

“The girl. The one I was lookin' for when ya found me before. Well, we found 'er. She was one of them.” Daryl whispered, looking down at the ground, picking at the grass. He only looked up when his brother started laughing. Daryl snarled, getting to his feet.

“What the fuck is yer problem yer jackass! I just told ya a lil' girl died and you laugh?!” Daryl was livid. He knew his brother was a bit of an asshole but this was too much.

“What can I say baby brother. I coulda been 'ere to help if ya pal Rick hadn't left me back in Atlanta, chained up like some rabid dog.” Merle rose too, getting right into Daryl's face.

“The way I see it, she got what she deserved.” And with that one comment from the older Dixon, Daryl struck out.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rick exited the farmhouse feeling much better than he did when he had entered. Hershel and himself had come to an agreement that would enable the group to stay at the farm. Of course there were some conditions the group had to abide by for example, Shane was not allowed near the farmhouse or any of the Greene family. That was a strict rule by Hershel, he did not like Shane one bit and honestly, Rick couldn't blame him. 

Rick walked back towards the camp to tell the group the good news when he caught a figure in the corner of his eyes. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes to try and get a better look. The former Sheriffs deputy decided to investigate, slowly walking over to the far end of the farm where the lone person was. As he got closer, he saw it was Daryl. Why had he moved all the way over here and away from everyone?

But that isn't all that confused Rick. The closer he got, the easier it was to hear the one-sided argument coming from the redneck. Rick stood still, watching as the hunter continued to argue with a non-existent person, not once noticing Ricks appearance. Rick was shocked. This wasn't right. Daryl was suffering from some kind of hallucination. Rick came to this conclusion when he heard Daryl growl out his brothers name.

Suddenly the hunter turned towards Rick, still unaware by his presence and raised a fist. That's when Rick intervened. He grabbed Daryl's fist as it flew towards him, stopping it in his tracks. He barked out the hunters name and watched as the man in question focused his attention on him. His eyes cleared from whatever madness was in them before, instead being replaced by pure confusion.

Daryl pulled his hand out of Ricks grasp and took a step back. He shook his head hard as if he was literally trying to shake whatever thoughts that were in his head out. As Rick went to speak, Daryl raised his hand to him, signalling him to stop.

“Not..Not now...” Daryl stammered out, moving further away from Rick. Rick continued to watch the hunter as he began to set up his tent, occasionally having a conversation with his brother that was not there. Rick looked on sadly. Daryl was hurting that bad that he was beginning to loose his mind. 

Rick sighed as he turned, heading back to camp. He kept looking back over his shoulder as he walked, worrying about Daryl more and more. It was obvious that the archer needed help. And Rick promised himself he would not fail someone else. He would help fix Daryl Dixon.


	2. Losing His Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glenn stumbles onto something that shows Daryl's sanity is at risk.

Night had fallen fast on the farm. Nothing else had happened since Rick had told the group the outcome of his conversation with Hershel. He had decided to not share the situation with Daryl, in fear everyone will shunt out the hunter. Speaking of the man, Daryl was making his way over to the group, knowing that dinner was almost ready. 

Daryl kept his head down low, avoiding all eye contact, especially Rick's. He could not bare to see that look of disappointment and worry in the older mans eyes. He took a seat as far from the group as possible why still being able to hear the conversations. Even still he could feel Ricks gaze on him.

Carol went about the group, handing out bowls of rabbit stew made with the game Daryl had caught. Everyone looked dejected that it was not something more substantial but ate it none the less. Daryl dropped his eyes to the bowl of brown liquid and felt his stomach clench. He closed his eyes tight, trying to fight down the wave of nausea that hit him.

“What's wrong lil' brother, food not good enough for ya?” Merle sniggered out from behind him. Daryl, not expecting his brothers sudden appearance, dropped his bowl, stew darkening the dry ground. He also succeeded in drawing in everyone's attention. He held in a breath, waiting for the shouting to start about Merle.

But there was none. Everyone went back to their food. All except Rick, who held his gaze on Daryl's now shaking form. He stood, making his way over to the archer. He could see the younger man tense as he got closer. He handed out his half eaten stew to Daryl, expecting him to take it. But Daryl shook his head.

“Can't eat. Not feelin' so good.” Daryl grimaced, sickness passing through him. “Need ta go lie down.” And without any more words, the hunter was up and gone, leaving Rick standing there, arm still outstretched. 

Rick watched him go, worry building up inside him.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Daryl got to his tent and flung himself down on his sleeping back, breathing heavily. He had his eyes clenched shut, hoping that whatever this feeling was, that it was going to pass soon. He heard someone shuffle about outside his tent and turned his head to the side. He groaned.

“Oh come on Darylina, your actin' like some pansy ass lil' girl right now. Get yer ass up boy!” The older Dixon growled, giving his brothers 'bed' a kick for extra measure. Daryl heaved him self up, his hands shaking slightly as he supported himself. He felt so damn weak.

“What the hell Merle. I feel like shit and yer bein' a dick. Lay off.” Daryl whimpered, his head spinning. He dropped himself back down on the sleeping bag, hands covering his face. He could feel Merle loom over him, casting a shadow over him.

“Yer weak and pathetic lil' brother. These 'friends' of yours have changed ya. Worthless the lot of them, especially yer good friend Officer Friendly. I can't actually believe ya chose the prick that left me chained to a roof over yer blood. Fuckin' disgusting you are lil brother.” Merle snarled down, bearing his teeth in his anger. I reached down, yanking Daryls hand from his face.

Daryl stared up at his brother, his eyes hazy. He tried ripping his arm out of Merle's grip but had no strength and gave up with a sigh. Trust Merle to kick him whilst he was down.

“I told ya Merle, I can back for ya. WE came back. Not my fault yer an impatient moron.” Daryl knew he made a mistake as soon as those words left his mouth. He watched as Merle's eyes darkened in anger. He gulped and waited for the pain to come.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  

Glenn slowly made his way over to Daryl's little camp. Even thought the two of them were not close, Glenn still thought it would be a nice thing to go check on the archer. Especially due to how sick he looked at dinner. In the time he had know Daryl, he had never know him to feel even the slightest under the weather and that worried him. For all anyone knew, Daryl could be bit and suffering from a fever.

Glenn had almost reached Daryl's tent when he had heard the raised voices in the midst of an argument. Wait, change that. He heard one voice seemingly arguing with another. Another that Glenn could not hear. Frowning to himself, Glenn moved forward quietly, peering into the open tent and drew in a breath. 

Daryl was lying there and he appeared to be trying to push something away. His eyes were clenched shut and pain was evident on his face. What startled Glenn more was the words coming from the hunters mouth. He was telling someone to stop. Telling Merle to stop. Glenn's jaw dropped as Daryl managed to 'break free' from his invisible captor, lashing out as if trying to punch someone.

Glenn knew he had to help Daryl but felt scared to do so encase the delusional hunter turned on him. He slowly backed up from the scene. He had to go find Rick, he would know what to do.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  

Rick was sat cleaning his Python half-heartedly when Glenn arrived, panicked and distressed. He watched as the former deliver boy almost flung himself down onto the ground next to Rick, obviously seeking out Rick's help. The cop dropped what he was doing and turned his full attention to the younger man.

“Hey, calm down. What's wrong?” He asked, his hand grasping at Glenn's shoulder as a sign of comfort. Glenn catches his breath as he looks round the group. What ever was bothering him, it was obvious that he didn't want anyone else to know.

“It's Daryl.” Glenn whispers, keeping his voice low. Rick knits his brow. Daryl. What else could have happened to the archer? After this afternoons strange performance, Rick thought he had witnessed it all. Maybe Glenn has seen something similar. Rick nods his head to Glenn, signalling him to continue.

“I just went over to check on him, cause you know, the way he acted at dinner was unlike him,” Glenn begins, Rick agreeing with that, It definitely was odd Dixon behaviour. “So, I got near his tent and I heard voices. At first I though him and Shane had got into one of their arguments but the more I listened I could not hear a second voice. Daryl was arguing with himself. But I think he thought he was with some one you know? I think he is seeing Merle.”

Rick hung his head. So it was what he thought. Glenn had seen Daryl's breakdown concerning his brother. Rick looks back up at the worried Glenn and explains what he has witnessed earlier that day, watching as Glenn's eyes widen in shock that this wasn't the first outburst.

“But Rick, it wasn't just verbal. He was struggling to get up. Like he was genuinely being pinned down. He looked in pain Rick.” Glenn's voice was deep with concern. That was something new to Rick too. Daryl's shift in mental heath was beginning to truly distress Rick. If seeing his brother was that realistic to Daryl, it could possibly mean that he could hurt himself or someone else. Rick grabs Glenn's attention once more as he gets to his feet.

“Don't worry Glenn. We will help him, okay? I will go see him now, make sure he hasn't done something silly.” And with that, the former Sheriffs deputy made his way over to the hunters camp.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  

Daryl was crying to himself when Rick found him. He was sitting in the far corner of his tent, cradling one of his hands. Rick approached with caution, anticipating the younger man to jump up or at least take a swing at him. But Daryl didn't move. He just rocked backwards and forwards, allowing Rick to get closer. 

Rick crouched down in front of the archer, carefully taking his cradled had into his own. Rick looked at the appendage and winced. The knuckles were split and the whole hand was beginning to bruise. It was clear that the Dixon brother had taken his anger out on something and punched it. Hard. Rick expected at least one of his fingers to be fractured if not broken. He would have to get Hershel to check it out for him.

Rick shrugged himself out of his shirt, careful not to jolt Daryl's injury and used it to make a temporary bandage around the bruised hand. Daryl didn't even move as Rick worked. He kept his gaze on the floor in front of him, eyes not straying from that empty space. Once Rick had finished, he slowly leaned over, raising Daryl's head so he could look at his face. Rick almost broke when he saw all the pain and fear in Daryl's eyes.

“Daryl. You need to tell me what is going on.” Rick whispered, still worried that the slightest thing could cause Daryl to snap. 

“I know you have been seeing your brother.” That got a response from the hunter. He shifted uncomfortably, pulling his hand away. He tried to avert his eyes but Rick wouldn't let him, holding his face gently between two hands. 

“You know he isn't here Daryl. Merle is not here. He isn't going to hurt you.” Daryl continued to stare as Rick went on. His face a series of emotions, changing fast. Pain. Anger. Fear. Hatred. Longing. Everything was going through his mind. Slowly the walls he had spent so long to build up came crashing down before him. He let out a sob as he let his head drop to Rick's shoulder, tensing when he felt the cops arms encircle him, pulling him into a comforting hug. 

Rick held the hunter as he let out everything he had been holding back. Tears where staining his t-shirt but he didn't care. This is what Daryl needed. And he needed someone to be there for him. Rick would be that person, whenever the archer needed it. 

Daryl pulled back slightly from the awkward hug, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes with his good hand. He watched as Rick gave his a sad smile, sitting there patiently for whatever Daryl needed. And that was when Daryl decided he could trust Rick. He believe this man could help him. He let out an audible gulp as he prepared to ask Rick for something he had never asked anyone before. Not even Merle. Rick tilted his head, waiting for what Daryl was going to say. The hunter braced himself internally before uttering the words.

“Rick, can you please help me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to happy with this chapter to be honest, so please let me know if there are any improvements you can think of. Thanks guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any suggestions in the comments or if you notice any mistakes. Thanks guys!


End file.
